A Long Way To Heaven
by sciencekitty
Summary: It's been over a year since Chandler and Monica's relationship broke down under the stress of tragedy. This is how they try to rebuild what they lost.


_Summary: First of all, I have no idea where this came from. Second of all, I love Monica and Chandler, and I think all the fic I've been reading finally rubbed off on the writer in me. Third of all, please let me know if this is any good, because I'm planning for this is to be multiple chapters. I've never written for Friends before, so I don't know if I'm anywhere near getting the characters down. Thank you! =) =)  
>Disclaimer: Not mine. Please don't sue. I'm poor. <em>

**A Long Way To Heaven**

"It's open, guys!" Chandler called without bothering to turn around to look at the apartment door. Normally, he would wonder which of his friends felt that it was even necessary to knock, but he was so engrossed in the TV that it didn't occur to him. He heard the door open and shut and tentative footsteps make their way across the floor, only to stop right behind the couch.

When the Baywatch rerun went to commercial, he acted as though he didn't notice that anyone had actually come in the apartment. He was getting tired of everyone tip-toeing around him, approaching him cautiously like he was an angry bear, afraid to slip and say her name in front of him. It had gotten to the point where he came close to losing his temper every time one of his friends tried to talk to him.

His visitor softly cleared her throat. Rachel. It had to be Rachel. It wasn't in Phoebe's nature to be quiet for so long.

He balled up his fists and tried to keep his tone even as he turned around.

"Look Rach, you don't have to sneak up - "

His words died in his throat.

She was back.

"Hey," Monica said, a little uncertainly. She chewed up on bottom lip, looking like she'd rather be anywhere except for the apartment she'd left over a year ago and staring at the husband she'd abandoned without looking back.

Suddenly unable to sit any longer, Chandler leapt backward off of the couch and backed away from her.

"Mon," he whispered. "Mon, Mon, Mon. Mon. You're Monica. You're Monica and you're here. Hey Monica…what are you doing here?"

He backed himself flat up against the TV and stopped, just staring at her.

She was beautiful. Her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders, stunning against her simple yellow dress. Her bright blue eyes were studying him nervously, and he noticed that she was quite a bit thinner than she was the last time he saw her. When she reached out a hand, he realized that her fingernails were bitten to the quick.

"Chandler, I -" Monica started to walk toward him.

"No!" he commanded forcefully. Her eyes widened in surprise.

Chandler adjusted his tone. "I mean, no. You stay there. You aren't real. If I close my eyes and open them again, you won't be there. Don't come any closer."

Obediently, she went quiet and stopped moving, waiting for him to prove to himself that she was real.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, rubbing them a few times for good measure, and expected her to disappear. This was it; his grief had finally gotten the best of him. He was hallucinating. He had finally gone crazy.

Chandler took a deep breath and opened his eyes again.

Monica was still there. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked like she would burst into tears any second, but she was still Monica and she was still standing in front of him.

She took a shaky breath and awkwardly waved at him.

"Hi"

* * *

><p>Monica stood outside of her old apartment door biting her thumbnail and wondering what the hell she was thinking. There was no way that Chandler would want to see her after what she did to him.<p>

She had walked out on him. She walked out on him at a time when they needed each other the most. Even worse, she didn't call him to let him know she was safe or that she missed him or that she was sorry. She was so incredibly sorry. All she wanted was for everything to be back to the way it was before….everything.

"Monica Gellar," she whispered to herself fiercely, purposefully ignoring the fact that she wouldn't allow herself to use the name Bing, "You will get it together and you will knock on that door and you will go in there and apologize to him."

She gathered herself and knocked on the door before she could lose her nerve, feeling her heart leap when Chandler yelled that it was open.

Hand on the knob, she closed her eyes and steeled herself before she went in.

"Please," she whispered to nobody in particular. "Please let him hear me."

She took a deep breath, went into the apartment, and found herself in the ultimate bachelor pad.

Chandler was sitting on the couch with his back to her, seemingly engrossed in what looked like a rerun of Baywatch. As she carefully made her way toward him, she took in her surroundings. The place looked like it hadn't been cleaned in all of the time she'd been gone and all of the extra special touches she'd put into the atmosphere of the apartment over the years had vanished. There were empty pizza boxes and beer bottles sitting everywhere, and there wasn't a coaster in sight. Monica felt her inner clean freak begin to protest and tried to fight off her reaction as she stepped up to the back of the couch.

He didn't move.

The show went to commercial and she waited a moment before clearing her throat to let him know someone was there. He tensed.

"Look Rach, you don't have to sneak up - "

He turned around and instantly stopped talking.

When she offered a small greeting, he was up and across the room in an instant, babbling her name and staring at her.

Monica felt her guilt rear its head again when it became clear how awful Chandler looked. He was painfully thin, wearing sweatpants and an old New York Knicks t-shirt that looked at least a size too big on him. His hair was sticking up every which way and he looked as though he hadn't slept properly in weeks.

"Chandler, I -"

She made a move to walk toward him, wanting nothing more than to gather him into her arms and apologize for everything she had done to hurt him like this.

"No!"

It shocked her when he yelled. He almost never raised his voice to her. She was always the one who was so quick to fly off the handle, to get angry before she had given the situation any real thought. He was always the one that knew exactly what to say to calm her down. She got worked up and then he came along and smoothed her ruffled feathers. That was their bit, it was what they did.

Chandler seemed to be just as surprised as she was. Convinced she was a figment of his imagination, he insisted that she stay where she was until he came to his senses.

She felt her throat tighten and tears gather at the sides of her eyes as she watched him rub at his closed eyes, willing himself to make her go away. Before getting back to New York, she hadn't let herself consider how her leaving had affected him. She made herself believe that he was fine, that all of their friends were taking care of him, that he wasn't falling apart the way she was.

How could she have ever been so selfish?

When he finally opened his eyes again, she couldn't help but to say something, anything.

"Hi"


End file.
